


the bet

by bellestar



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bars and Pubs, Bartenders, Drinking, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mutual Pining, Praise Kink, Prompt Fill, Reylo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25580554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellestar/pseuds/bellestar
Summary: INDEFINITE WIPRey challenges Ben who can make the better martini during a slow night at the bar.  It goes something like this:Ben: if I win, you’ll let me take you out on a date.Rey: and if I win, you’ll let me take you back to my place tonight.Who will win?
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 28
Kudos: 134
Collections: Ijustfellintothissendhelp





	the bet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reylolovely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reylolovely/gifts).



> This fic request is in honor of one of my very first Reylo friends for her birthday! I was wandering around lost before I happened upon a twitter post from [@jedimasterrey1](https://twitter.com/jedimasterrey1) of the [ Mighty Reylo Network](https://reylo.mn.co/), and through that network, I found my people. Without her, I would have never met some of the most wonderful Reylos who are now my very best friends. She is also incredibly sweet, supportive and inclusive. We need more of that in the world we're living in.
> 
> Ray, I hope your birthday is as wonderful as you are!

It started over a goddamned Moscow mule.

It was Rey’s fourth day as a bartender at Maz’s, the hole-in-the-wall bar where she and Finn used to get drunk on 25 cent pitcher nights. Now, she was the one pouring the pitchers of beer. 

She didn’t mind that so much; being a recent college graduate meant that she had student loans to pay. What better way to make some extra cash at night but to serve the drinks that she loved to enjoy?

Until it came down to making Moscow mules.

The recipe was simple: vodka, lime juice, ginger beer and a lime wedge for garnish served in a copper mug. She counted the fluid ounces of each ingredient as she poured, ensuring she followed the recipe perfectly. Rey even counted out the number of ice cubes (because could that be making the drink too strong?) and there was something still… _off._

The customer at the bar was getting irritated, his fingers tapped against the counter as she tried to make it for a third time. Flustered, Rey miscounted the one and half fluid ounces of vodka, and with a groan, the copper mug landed into the sink.

_Who the hell comes to Maz’s and orders a Moscow mule anyway? Why couldn’t he want a bottle of beer or a Jack and Coke?_

Collecting her thoughts and grabbing a clean copper mug, Rey blew out a breath and closed her eyes to regain her focus. She was a college graduate with an engineering degree. She can make a Moscow mule with its five ingredients.

“You’re overpouring the lime juice,” his voice rumbled behind her.

Her fingers clutched the steel liquor pourer, her other hand stopping mid-pour as the vodka bottle crashed down onto the counter.

“The lime juice?” she asked as her head turned over her shoulder. Rey was forced to look up to find her co-worker standing behind her with that smug as hell look on his face that she was annoyed by from the moment she came in for her interview last week.

“Yeah, I think you’re adding a fluid ounce and it should be half,” he replied casually. Just like telling her the sky is blue and water is wet. Like _of course_ she’s pouring too much lime juice into the mug.

With a huff, Rey turned her attention back to making the cocktail, taking extra care that she was pouring the half an ounce of lime juice. She added a couple of extra ice cubes for good measure to make sure the drink was served chilled and plastered a smile on her face to serve the drink to the very impatient customer waiting.

Rey mumbled her apology as she went to clean up the mess she had made when she heard the very grumpy Moscow mule man comment that the drink was perfect. _Finally._ Rey wasn’t someone who needed to hear praise, but it felt good knowing that she was able to finally put that drink order behind her and be ready for the next one.

She tried not to let satisfaction wash over her as she rinsed out the discarded copper mugs in the sink when _his_ praise caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up.

“Good girl. Just be careful with the pours and you’ll be fine.”

Rey Johnson’s head jerked around to find Ben Solo, her pain-in-the-ass but hot as fuck co-worker standing with his arms folded over his chest and that annoyingly smug smile on his face.

But he just said she was a _good girl_.

And suddenly, she wanted all of his praise. She would never mess up another goddamned Moscow mule ever again.  
  


* * *

  
Rey has learned she can make a damn good margarita.

It has a lot to do with her own practice at home when making them, but she takes great pride in the fact that customers come in and request her margaritas.

She doesn’t have any special tips, aside from making sure the rim of the glass is properly garnished with salt. But she’s mastered the recipe of using tequila, fresh lime juice, orange liqueur and agave syrup with the salt and lime wheel garnish.

It’s a slow Tuesday night at Maz’s, not that she minds it. She started here over six months ago and she’s feeling comfortable in her bartending abilities. Some nights are longer than others, but the extra money she’s making means she’s eating more than the 50 cent cups of ramen noodles for dinner.

It is not so bad to be a bartender at Maz’s. Rey really likes working for the older woman who can drink any of them under the table and still ask for another shot of vodka. Her co-workers are friendly, and they help each other out when the nights are particularly slammed.

And then there is Ben.

Of all of her co-workers, he is the most experienced bartender; he’s worked for Maz for over five years. Rey thinks she overheard him tell someone that Maz and his father go way back, and that pouring drinks and creating cocktails is something he was destined to do. He is a great bartender. She’s never seen him mess up a drink order and the garnishes are always picture perfect. 

She’s adding a splash of lime to Maz’s margarita served on the rocks and passing it down to the end of the bar when she looks up and sees Ben leaning against the wall. He’s been watching her; something that Rey has noticed in the last several months.

“Hey, show me how you just made that,” he says as he pushes himself from the wall and walks her direction.

His black hair curls just slightly against the nape of his neck and bounces with each step. Rey has decided that his eyes remind her of the color of Johnnie Walker scotch that sits on the top shelf. She’s afraid to admit just how many times she has watched with great fascination how his large hand simply engulfs entire glasses when he’s passing them to customers.

“You want me to show you how to make a margarita?” she asks. She gets enough teasing from Rose about how she constantly stares at Ben, even on her nights off when she still comes by for a nightcap. Rey is pretty sure almost everyone at Maz’s, including the regulars, know that she has a crush on him.

But she’s pretty sure that he has a crush on her, too.

When it is just Ben and Rey behind the bar, she has noticed that he will always make sure when he’s putting away clean glassware that he puts the beer steins and martini glasses on the lowest shelf so she can easily grab them If the bar is packed, Ben somehow manages to make sure not only his customers get their drinks fast, but he’ll have the bottle opener ready if she’s grabbing a beer out of the cooler for one of hers. Ben will go out of his way to clean the station after her, and if the cooler needs to be restocked with ice, it is always done before she can grab the ice bucket herself.

They steal glances at one another, and on more than one occasion, Ben has given her a toothy grin that she’s convinced has stopped her heart. He finds small ways to touch her, whether it’s his hand that falls to the small of her back when he’s passing her by or his fingers that brush against her if they’re putting beer in buckets.

One thing that Ben has never done before is ask her how she makes one of her drinks.

He is standing by her side and reaching for a steel cocktail shaker and filling it with ice, a hint of a grin on his face.

“Yeah, everyone keeps telling me how great your margaritas are, so let’s see what you’ve got.” His deep voice is like velvet as his request rolls off his tongue and manages to leave a trail of goosebumps all over her skin. It amazes Rey how much of an effect he can have on her, even without touching her.

Clearing her throat, Rey reaches behind her to grab the bottle of tequila and the lime juice. She can’t help but smile to herself about the lime juice. Her mind flashes back to the night of the Moscow mule incident, when he called her a good girl. She wonders if she shows him how to make this drink if she’ll get the same praise as before.

“You want this on the rocks?” she asks. Ben huffs quietly.

“You think I’m a frozen margarita kind of guy?”

“Mm, I don’t know. I could see you wearing a Hawaiian shirt and listening to Jimmy Buffett while sipping on a strawberry margarita,” she teases. He shakes his head as he leans on his forearms on the bar, his brows knitted as he looks up at her.

“Well, it’s five o’clock somewhere, so pour me something tall and strong.”

“That would mean you want a Hurricane to drink,” Rey laughs as she pours the two ounces of tequila and the ounce of lime juice into the shaker.

“You seem to be the Jimmy Buffet fan here, Rey. Do I need to get you a parrot hat?” Ben is smiling at her now as she’s counting the half ounces of orange liqueur and agave syrup to pour into the shaker.

“Don’t you know I’m the woman to blame for the lost shaker of salt? Or however that song goes?” For a moment, Rey can’t believe how ridiculous this conversation is, but as she’s adding the cap to the cocktail shaker, she notices that Ben’s eyes have narrowed a little.

“I thought you were a good girl,” he says quietly.

She gives the shaker an extra hard shake at his words. The freezing steel in her hands does nothing to stop the flush from creeping up her neck and to her cheeks. 

He just called her a good girl, again.

Rey counts the number of times she shakes the container (ten times is her preferred count), and when she’s finished, she grabs a margarita glass. With careful precision, she lines the rim of the glass with salt before she pours ice into it and strains the drink from the shaker. The drink is complete when she slips the lime wedge onto the rim and passes it over to Ben.

“Let’s see what the fuss is about,” he says as Rey watches him pick up the glass and bring it to his lips. This isn’t the first time she has noticed that Ben has the perfect, plush lips that look like they are begging to be kissed. She watches as his eyes squint just a little when the first taste of salt presses against his mouth and he takes a slow sip. His jaw relaxes and his eyes flutter closed.

It feels like hours pass before he makes his judgment, and Rey nearly stumbles over her feet as she’s taking the barware to the sink to be washed.

“That is a good margarita,” he announces before taking a longer sip. She’s smiling to herself and pretending it isn’t a big deal that Ben Solo just said she makes a great drink.

His follow up to his evaluation of her drink making ability causes her to drop one of the beer steins into the sink with a loud crash. 

“Glad you listened to me about watching your pours like a good girl.”

_Fuck.  
  
_

* * *

  
It’s a slow Thursday night, a little unusual for a college town dive bar. 

Rey is scrolling through social media on her phone when Ben brushes past her, his hand bumping into her hip as he is moving to grab a bottle of beer from the cooler. That is becoming a more frequent occurrence now.

They have been finding more ways to touch each other when they’re working. Rey has noticed that Ben will touch her lower back at least two or three times a night when he’s passing by (not that she is counting) and he’s started to leave his hand on her shoulder a little longer than usual if he’s reaching over top of her. Rey has been bumping her hips against his when they are standing side-by-side – by accident, of course.

They have graduated to making suggestive comments. Last week, when a group of girls from one of the sorority houses came in and asked for Fuzzy Navel drinks, Ben commented to Rey as they worked to make the drink for the group of nine girls that they looked like the type who would do body shots.

“That something you want to see for yourself?” Rey had asked. Ben was quiet for a moment as he poured the last drink into the highball glass.

“No, but I’d take a shot off of you,” he had replied. Rey was so stunned that she didn’t have a comment for it.

She’s been thinking about that comment ever since.

They have been working together for ten months, and the tension between them some nights is so thick that Rey thinks it could be cut with a knife.

Rose has been begging her to take Ben home already. Maz has even joked that she knows one day she will walk in to find Rey on top of the bar with Ben hovering above her. “Just make sure there’s no customers and you clean up after yourselves,” Maz had added.

Rey has almost had enough of the back and forth flirting with her co-worker. There are countless nights that Rey has gone to bed and thought about what it would be like to be with him. She already knows he can easily shake up a drink, and she’s looking to be shaken in a different kind of way.

“Hey, I have an idea,” she says as she pockets her phone into her jeans and Ben has picked up the last of a couple of bottles of beer left on the counter. The bottles hit the recycling bin with a clash, and Rey almost loses her nerve when he turns around to face her. Ben cards a hand through his hair and gives her a smile.

“Yeah? What is your idea?” he asks.

Standing straight on her feet, Rey lifts her chin up toward him. “Why don’t we have a little bet?”

His brows raise at the suggestion, and she notices how his jaw clenches a little. “A bet? What is this bet?”

“I wonder between the two of us who can make the better martini.” Rey’s voice is sing-songy as she reaches for a couple of martini glasses. Placing them on the counter, she smirks a little at him. She’s feeling bold tonight.

“Think you are up for the challenge?” she questions.

“A martini, hm? What kind?”

“How about a dirty martini?”

Ben returns the smirk, and excitement courses through her veins.

“If I win, you’ll let me take you out on a date,” he says. Now there’s more than just excitement flooding her as Rey is grabbing the bottle of gin. Her heart is pounding wildly in her chest at the thought Ben wants to take her out on a date.

She has to keep herself from squealing out loud.

Placing the bottles of gin and dry vermouth on the bar, Rey decides that all of these months of foreplay are enough for her.

“If I win, you’ll let me take you back to my place tonight,” she counters.

Ben’s lips part and his eyes narrow as she grins a little. With a soft shake of his head, the hair on his forehead whips back. He holds his hand out to hers.

“Deal.” Rey’s eyes dart from his face to his outstretched hand, and the way her hand feels so small in his causes her to shudder as she grips it. 

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know, it's a mean cliffhanger.
> 
> \--
> 
> Moodboard gifted to me from [@Lane Reads Reylo!](https://twitter.com/LaneReads)
> 
> Special love and thank you to [Sophia_Ravencrest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Ravencrest/pseuds/Sophia_Ravencrest), who is an amazing beta and cheerleader! I don't know where any of my stories would be without her.
> 
> I'm also over at [twitter](https://twitter.com/bellestarreylo). Come say hi to me!


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